Paint the Toon Red

by A. J. Mayall

  That’s another thing. I remember all of my lady friends complaining that none of the clothes they got had pockets. I’d always thought they were overreacting.

  It really is a son of a bitch. No wonder Felix carries around that damn bag of his.

  I took a seat near the back. I’d been in a bit of a sour mood and it was taking its toll on my personality. I used to be so happy all the time; now I had a body that should’ve exuded joy, and all I wanted to do was punch walls. I chalked part of it up to not being able to jack off for the last few days.

  I sighed and opened up the briefcase, looking over the mound of paperwork inside. It’d take me the better part of three days, probably, to get through it all. If I had help, I might be able to do it faster. I considered Chance; as a private eye, he probably had handle lots of paperwork and fish through stuff.

  I also thought about Kyle, but I still couldn’t bring myself to call him yet. I still didn’t know how to handle it, and part of me secretly hoped he would give up on me and find someone better, not broken.

  My staring out the window was broken by a child’s scream. “Look, Dad! A fox!”

  I looked over and there was some precocious-looking kid with a dark streak in his gaze. I put him somewhere between nine and eleven. Kids younger than that had all the innocence in the world, and there’s no way to hold any social faux pas against them. Once they hit nine and ten, those years are where you learn exactly how to be an asshole, before puberty kicks it into overdrive.

  I’m not saying all kids are assholes. I’m saying when I was a kid, I was an asshole and I know that look.

  He leaned over the seat and smiled. “Hey, do a trick!”

  “I’m not that kind of toon, kid.”

  “Yeah, you are! Look at ya!” The dad patted the kid on the shoulder and looked over at me, then pointed up toward the security camera.

  I don’t know if it was that I just wasn’t toon enough yet, or that me being dark and dour was different enough to be considered a part of “the show,” but I just waved a hand and said, “I’m really—I’m having a very special episode right now.”

  The kid whined. “Dad, make him do something!”

  The dad sighed and turned to me. “My kid doesn’t get to see that many of you super kid-friendly guys. Would you do us a solid?”

  Flatly, I replied, “I’m really not. It’s nothing personal, I’m not that kinda—”

  The dad sighed and pointed back at the camera. “You’re being watched. You know how these things work.”

  I looked around the bus. It was mostly humans, but a few other toons were giving me a side-eye. The problem was, if I did something and it wasn’t over-the-top enough, it would probably just piss the dad off even more. But if I went too over-the-top, what would be the point of me trying to become human again if some ten-year-old brat and his entitled father can crack what Pamela Blake couldn’t?

  “Sir, I’m getting back to my job. I really understand that I look like I am super kid-friendly and, by all means, I can maybe sing a song, or—”

  The dad leaned in and spoke real low. “Come on, you’re trying to tell me that some four-foot-nothing, rubber hose arm, wearing nothing but a bow tie and a pair of shoes fox is too fucking adult to grab a pie from behind them, put some toon dynamite in it, light it up, and swallow it for a damn kid who’s asking for it…”

  I glared back at him. “Sir, I don’t do those sort of gags.”

  “Well, then, what the hell do you do, you dickless son of a bitch?”

  That was enough. I couldn’t stand people like him when I was human but I sure as hell wasn’t going to take it now that I was a toon. I wanted to deck him, but I just smiled and leaned in close.

  “I’m the sort of toon who gives ethical messages. You know, nice little words to live by, fun phrases, that sort of thing.”

  The dad rolled his eyes and the kid huffed. I knew for a fact that the cameras on the buses didn’t capture sound, so I just smiled as wide as I could and pulled the chain to get off at the next stop. I had no problem switching buses and made sure all the cameras would see was me smiling wide, without hearing what I was actually saying.

  “Listen here, you entitled motherfucker.” The other toons on the bus went wide-eyed and the other parents covered their children’s ears. “The lesson I have for you, young man, is not to become like this asshole who happened to fuck your mother hard enough that the afterbirth grew legs.”

  The kid looked like he’d been punched in the gut. I felt like an asshole, but I had had enough.

  “And you, sir,” I said, still talking through clenched teeth. “If you ever start commanding toons to do your fucking bidding because you’re too fucking lazy to keep your own goddamn child entertained, I will crawl out of your TV in the middle the night, strap a machete between my legs, and give your ass the loving that Edith Bunker never got from Archie in 50 years.

  “And back to you, young man,” I said, smiling ever wider, making sure all my teeth were showing. I waggled my eyebrows and continued, “You want to live in this world? Do you want to succeed? Here’s my word of advice for you. Eat. Your. Parents.”

  The bus stopped, the doors opened, and I approached the exit with my suitcase. Every toon on the bus was wide-eyed and jaws dropped halfway down their chests at the exchange that had just transpired. A few humans, however, gave me some applause on my way out.

  On the sidewalk, I looked at both of them and mimed dropping a microphone. It would be another 30 minutes before the next bus, but I was willing to wait.

  I needed to call Chance or Kyle. I wasn’t sure what to do.

  Eventually, I did get home, and Barry was waiting at my door when I arrived.

  He didn’t look pleased.

  “Hey, what’s up, man?”

  “Did you just have a breakdown of sorts on a public bus?”

  “You mean that asshole and his dad?”

  Barry went wide-eyed. “Listen, I understand that you’re still upset about this and I understand that there are certain things you can’t do, but you have to think about the community at this point,” he said, pulling out his phone and showing me a slew of text messages. “Word travels fast, Fairfax. I put the word out for you for people to keep an eye out if they see you, that you were new, and that things were different for you, but that you were trying your best to keep things on the down low. A G-rated toon cursing out a child—a child and his father?”

  “That entitled son of a—”

  “I don’t care how entitled he was! It looks bad on the rest of us! Right now, that father and son are going to be giving every other toon a side glance. They’re going to be nervous around us, and they might even be afraid. Did you threaten to come out of their TV and murder them in their sleep?!”

  “I was angry. I said something I shouldn’t have and—”

  “You’re diddly-dang-doo-wop right you did, Fairfax.”

  “What would you have done if some entitled asshole and his frickin’ spawn comes at you and demand you put on a frickin’ song and dance number when you have other things to do?”

  Barry blinked. “Put on a song and dance and I’ll be late to whatever it is I have to do.”

  I paused and rubbed my temples. “Really? That’s all it takes? Even if it’s an emergency?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “I wanted to be left alone. I told him that! I told him I don’t do that sort of thing. They kept insisting. And that dad was a real jerk; he called me ‘dickless!’”

  Barry winced at that. “I get it. They hit you below the belt.” He sighed. “I’ll put a call out to try and find that father and son, and to have random happy episodes happen around them for the next week or so. You owe me for this, Fairfax. You know, I’m here to help you out, but you can’t kneecap us all because of what happened to you!”

  I groaned “I didn’t mean to make things bad for the rest of you. I just—”

  “Fairfax, you can’t act like a human out in public. W
hen it’s just us here? Fine, you can curse, you can talk nasty, and you can talk about how much you want to punch someone. There’s plenty of humans I’m not happy with and wish I could drop a proper anvil on, but I can’t and I won’t.”

  I scowled and went to talk, but Barry grabbed my muzzle and held it shut before continuing.

  “I’m not gonna lie, part of me wants to drop a piano on you in the hopes you’ll pick up a couple of those instincts by shaking off the injuries, but I understand that’s a personal assault. I respect your boundaries, but you need to respect ours. This is now a two-way street.”

  He let my mouth go.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. Anyway, I got some paperwork to do for the rest the night. I’ll probably be doing this for the next few days.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

  I nodded to Barry. “Hey, man. I—I am sorry. Please send my apologies to everyone. I really didn’t mean to—”

  Barry tutted. “This is still new to you and you don’t instinctively pick this stuff up. It’s frustrating,” he said, letting out a puff of steam, “but it’s an understandable level of frustration. If I suddenly were human, I don’t know how I’d handle some things, like needing to shower, or drinking enough water or else I die, or dying in general, and how you guys see television as not real, and—”

  I perked up. “What was that?”

  Barry shook his head. “We’ll talk about that later. It’s a perspective thing. Just understand that everyone’s got a camera now and most of them carry sound. You know we’re hoping that video doesn’t go viral, but you can’t go around threatening people—especially kids—and I don’t care how frustrated you are or how rude they were. This isn’t the you that I know.”

  I laughed weakly. “It’s not the me I know either, but I’m trying to hold onto as much of me as I can.”

  Barry patted my shoulder and brought me in for a tight hug. “It’s okay, man; just hang in there.”

  “Okay.” I fished the key from my bow tie and opened up my apartment.

  Barry called out, “Oh, the landlord’s been about. I let him in on what’s going on. Your rent won’t change because of the situation. He’s also offered to change your appliances back to toon.”

  I shook my head. “I prefer to keep things as they are. Who knows? Maybe in a month or two, this whole thing wears off.”

  Barry shrugged. “It’s up to you; I’m just passing on the info.”

  I stepped inside my apartment, closed and locked the door, set the briefcase down, and walked over to where my phone was charging. That was the weirdest part about being a toon, honestly. I was so used to carrying my wallet and phone everywhere I went, and now, I just couldn’t. The only place I could secure the stuff was in my gloves or shoes, and that would make walking weird or my hands work funny.

  Emergency cash was in my left shoe, my bus pass was on the back of my right hand, key behind my tie. That’s all I really had for what I was allowed to take out with me.

  I grabbed my phone and brought up my contact list but wasn’t sure who to call. I would probably call Chance, but part of me wanted to at least contact Kyle and let them know that I’m doing a little bit better.

  I clicked on Kyle’s name and after two rings, he answered, “Tyler?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I said. After so many days of being Fairfax, it was nice being called Tyler again.

  “Your voice still sounds funny.”

  “Yeah, it might be this way for a while.”

  “Can I come over now?”

  “I still need some time.”

  “What happened? I’m really worried about you. Are you still at your apartment?”

  “Yeah. I may actually need your help.”

  “Then, I’ll be right over.”

  “No, Kyle…how do I tell you this? There was kind of an accident…”

  “Yeah?”

  “And I got injured.”

  “My God, I called the hospital! They didn’t say—”

  “I wasn’t in a hospital. I barely made it home and Barry actually helped patch me up. This isn’t something I can go to the police over, either,”

  “Did that gator do something to you?”

  “No. Maybe, but no. I’ve been disfigured somewhat, and I don’t want you to freak out when you see me. I’m feeling a lot better now, but…when I’m ready for you to come over, I’m not going to look the same.”

  “Tyler, if things are that bad, we can take you to a hospital and—”

  “I’m okay now. I really am. Like, I don’t need to see a doctor.” Which was true, considering toons rarely got sick unless it was a plot point for something going on with them.

  “I’m really worried about you. You say the word and I’ll be over in a heartbeat.”

  “I know and I love you for that, but I want you to know that I understand if it’s going to be too much for you to handle and if it is, I’d still very much like to be friends.”

  Kyle scoffed at that. “Oh, I’m not leaving you just because you got a couple of scars.”

  “It’s not a couple of scars. It’s a bit more intense than that.”

  “If it’s more intense than that, why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

  “You’ll see when you see, okay? I’m very self-conscious about this right now.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Kyle.”

  I hung up the phone and called Chance.

  “This is Ovuskno. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, it’s Fairfax.”

  “Yeah? What can I do for you?”

  “You said you wanted a pair of eyes on the inside, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you need to come over to my place then, because I need help filing and entering all the data for a crap-ton of toons that Snappy wants me to digitize for public records.”

  “I’ll be right over. Or, better yet, I’ll come pick you up and take you back to my place. I probably got a better setup than you.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Half an hour later, I got a text that he was outside. I grabbed the suitcase, put my phone back on the charger, and headed down to sit in the passenger seat. Conscious and not in blinding pain, I could properly appreciate his car.

  “Pretty nice.”

  “Okay, so…”

  “I don’t know what’s all in here, or if any of it’s helpful, but I need to get all of this filled out on the spreadsheets digitized. I need to get a backup copy for Snappy since the digital and original files are going to City Hall.”

  “Do you think your boss will like you getting outside help, sharing the information?”

  “He never said I couldn’t.”

  “I like the way you think, fox.”

  Soon, we were on the other side of town. We pulled up to a warehouse that looked like it was in disrepair.

  “This is where I live.”

  “This is an abandoned warehouse!”

  “And it’s where I live.”

  “How much is the rent on this place?”

  “I know some people. I’ve done work for them in the past. They have lots of connections when it comes to real estate, and I needed a place where I can get a lot of work done in solitude. Someplace it would be easy to host a lot of supplies, shall we say.”

  When we walked in, my eyes went wide, so I’d actually had to put forth the effort to stop them from bugging out. There were guns and tech everywhere.

  I looked at him and took a few steps back. “There is no way in fucking hell you bought all this stuff on a private eye salary.”

  Chance gave a cocky grin and shrugged. “You figured me out. I kind of do stuff like a private eye: I find people, I track them down.”

  That’s when I noticed the sheer number of drones and pieces of security and surveillance equipment.

  “What the hell are you? A spy?”

  “I’m a hired gun. This time, they want me to track someone down, so I’m technical
ly not lying when I say I’m a private investigator. I was hired privately and I’m investigating.”

  “What’s the case?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

  I looked at him. “Who the hell am I going to tell? Who the hell would believe me? Look at me! I’d already be telling them that I’m a human that’s been turned into a toon; to top that, I’ve got a new friend who poses as a paparazzo and a P.I. but is actually a mercenary.”

  It was Chance’s turn to go wide-eyed. “Point taken. I’ve done some looking into a missing person out of Romania. I generally do most of my work in eastern Europe. A prominent family has made enemies of equally powerful people. The eldest son, Ludovic Pascu, was last seen about eight years ago in San Jose, primarily hanging around Animætropolis. I got a tip he had contacted talent agents to help him secure a new identity.

  “Considering that name changes and smoothing over unsavory pasts tend to go hand-in-hand, I’d been tailing our friend Miss Blake. After about six months, I noticed the trend of people disappearing and them last being seen at her place.

  “So, here’s the deal. If you help me find Vic Pascu, I’ll split the money with you. Trust me, I got more than enough, and the favors I’ll earn on this will be worth more than the money. We can take your portion and try to reverse-engineer the process that Miss Blake used on you. From what I understand of her, she’s very meticulous about her bookkeeping. The technique is probably written down somewhere. Frankly, I say we take her out and let the pieces fall where they may. How about it? Are you ready to become a hired gun? Good money!”

  I didn’t know if I even could. Snappy had my control over me. “I need my—”

  Chance nodded. “Your copyright. I know. When I deal with Miss Blake, I’ll help you get that as well. If anything, I’ll buy you off of him.”

  I narrowed my gaze.

  He put up his hands. “No, I wouldn’t keep it. I’m just saying I’d buy it off of him and give it to you do with it what you want. I don’t fucking need a toon following me around.”

  I walked around the warehouse, picking up a few of the weapons and testing the balance. There were a couple of pistols I took a shine to, which was weird because I never liked guns all that much. Even so, a pacifist like me has to admit that, sometimes, a couple of pistols look pretty badass.